


Linguistics

by Simara



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Pining, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simara/pseuds/Simara
Summary: In which Barnes is blunt, Oscar is smug, Zolf holds the brain cell and Carter is blushing a lot.
Relationships: Commander James Barnes/Howard Carter (Rusty Quill Gaming), Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 28
Kudos: 63





	Linguistics

Carter wasn't sure how it had started. Some drunken banter turned serious conversation somewhere around the second bottle, as it was wont to do during these long quarantine nights. Zolf had participated only with dignified silence at first but by now even he had joined the discussion, methodically explaining why Wilde and Barnes were thinking about it all wrong. The 'it' in question being sex, of course. 

The particulars of their discussions were as follows: Since the world was clearly about to end and every day might as well be their last, it stood to question that one ought to prioritize. Which sexual activity, then, would each choose to indulge in one last time, if given the chance? This soon diverged into a general ranking of all kinds of intercourse and right now Oscar Wilde, who seemed almost like his old self with that gleam in his eyes, gave a heartfelt defence for the perfoming of oral sex. 

"Gamahouching, from the french gamahucher", he declared with grand gesture, "is a most underappreaciated art requiring finesse as well as endurance. Love, after all, is a sacrament best taken kneeling, gentlemen." Zolf gave him a look that was both doubtful and fond and Carter felt a pang of jealousy at their closeness. Barnes shook his head lightly and Wilde jumped at the chance, asking with mock offence:

"What, can you truly think about a better act of service than kneeling at the altar of love?“ Barnes considered this for a moment, then with a bluntness that made Carter's ears burn, he said:

"Eating ass."

"Ah, a connoiseur!" Wilde exclaimed, at almost the same moment Carter heard his drunken tongue betray him by adding a disbelieving 

"What?" to the discussion. He felt all eyes turn towards him. 

"You're still awake, then!" Wilde said jovially (Carter hadn't seen him this chipper in a long time and he wasn't sure if he prefered the mania over the lethargy) "I thought we'd lost you at our musings on penetration." True, Carter had stopped being an active participant in this supposedly scholarly discussion as soon as he had noticed his tongue starting to trip and tremble at each interjection. If he truly wanted them to believe that he knew what he was talking about, that the mass of his experience didn't amount to giving one (1) blowjob at a university party, drunk and dizzy on his knees and more than mildly disappointed afterwards, if he wanted them to believe all that he needed to stop blushing and stuttering and shut up, for once. And this strategy would surely have worked if not for his surprised interjection at Barnes's last contribution. 

And Wilde, clearly, wouldn't let this one slip. 

"What our dear commander meant, Mr Carter, is the act of stimulating the-" 

"I know what he meant!" Protested Carter petulantly, pulling a face. "It doesn't sound very pleasant, is all." Wilde clapped his hands together, feigning shock.

"Gentlemen, our dear Mr Carter has never had his rump eaten. I demand justice! I demand volunteers!“ There was a mischievous spark in Barnes' eyes, and Carter felt the heat rise all the way from his cheeks to his hairline. Zolf sighted and pulled Wilde, who had jumped up, back onto the floor. 

"Don't let them bully you", he said gruffly but not unkindly to Carter. "What you do or don't do is none of their business." 

"It's a shame though", Barnes said, almost as if to himself. "I wouldn't mind getting my tongue on him." Wilde gave a small cheer but Carter's heart stopped dead. Barnes had just said that. Barnes wouldn't mind - no, no, no Barnes was drunk and they were in quarantine and probably a little worked up from all the sex talk. Barnes didn't actually like Carter that way, barely liked Carter at all, probably, only tolerated him because he was useful and only helped dress his wounds because that's the polite thing to do, and only let Carter rest his head on his shoulder when he was exhausted because - Carter's brain shortwired. He clasped the bottle tightly and took a deep swig even though his head was already feeling painfully heavy. 

"Buy me a drink first", he managed to snap back, forcing his tone to be flippant, nonchalant. Barnes raised an eyebrow and glanced at the bottle and Carter almost chocked. He coughed and doubled over, eyes watering as Barnes' hands rubbed small circles onto his back, the same hands that had presented them with a crate of bottles only a few hours earlier, a crate of bottles Barnes had bought himself on their way back to the inn to celebrate the successful mission. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on a 9 hour train journey and discord lovingly bullied me into posting this.  
> So here's blanket permission for anyone who feels like writting a smutty continuation of this snippet because Carter clearly needs his ass eaten 2k20.


End file.
